


Without Hesitation or Mercy

by Mad_Muse_Musings



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Grief/Mourning, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Muse_Musings/pseuds/Mad_Muse_Musings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stahma found herself in bed with Kenya it was evident that things would not end well, but even Stahma wasn't prepared for this ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Hesitation or Mercy

_Kenya, listen to me very carefully. If my husband ever found out that we had been together, he would kill us both, without hesitation, or mercy._

 

The path Stahma walked was well-worn. Months of walking it would do that.

A path that started at her home. No, house; it was no longer a home.

A path that wove through the busy streets and past the law keeper’s office, where every morning Irisa fell into step behind her. For protection.

A path that broke through the wall of the living until it ended just outside of the “town”, but was still contained within the walls of Defiance.

A path that ended in two perfectly shaped knee impressions that had formed over the months.

A path that ended in a pile of flowers, adorned with small dream catchers; all an attempt to make the sorrow less evident.

A path that ended in a tombstone.

 

Stahma knelt in the dirt; her knees sliding easily into the indentations, while Irisia took her spot a few feet away, standing alert while she played with her knives.

 

Placing the new flowers on the pile, Stahma allowed the tears to fall from her eyes and crash onto the flowers.

 

“I was wrong. It is not often I am wrong, but I was so very wrong Kenya.” Stahma whispered into the dead air that hung around Kenya Rosewater’s grave.

 

The crunch of someone walking along her well-worn path; accompanied by Irisia’s inquiry of who was there, should have launched Stahma into motion, but she remained kneeling in her sorrow.

 

“If you move, I’m shooting you.” Amanda Rosewater threatened while firmly nuzzling the barrel of her gun into Stahma’s head.

 

“If that would make you happy,” Stahma responded, her voice cracking under the strain of her sorrow.

 

“Do you think it’s funny? Do you think this is hilarious? To come to my sisters grave, when your husband killed her?”

 

“Mayor, please put the gun down.” Irisia was begging. She had no desire to kill anyone but Datak, but she had promised to protect Stahma, and right now Amanda was the threat.

 

“No, I do not find this funny.” Stahma responded.

 

She did find it funny that everyone held her just as responsible for Kenya’s murder as Datak, while never asking if she had anything to do with it, or if she even knew why Datak had done it. Although she couldn’t blame them too much, the whole town had been a volcano of anger that was just waiting to erupt, and when Datak got away with murdering the mayor’s sister, that volcano bubbled over and anyone near Datak got burned.

 

Some more literally than others.

 

“Then why are you doing this to me? Why would you come to my sisters grave?”

 

“Please Mayor, put the gun down.” Irisia begged one last time.

 

“Fine.” Amanda answered, throwing the gun away with enough force that it skipped across the dirt and rocks. “Why are you doing this to me Stahma?”

 

“Because I am the one being punished.” It was a simple statement, but Stahma wasn’t in the mood to toy anymore.

 

“She was _my_ sister.” Amanda stressed.

 

Stahma pushed herself up from the ground, turning slowly to look down at the small blonde woman. Amanda tried to look away, but Stahma’s hand darted out and grasped Amanda’s chin, forcing her to look at Stahma’s face. Where perfect white skin existed on the left side of her face, the right was almost completely marred into a mass of grey scar tissue, and very few people would look her in the face now. But for this, Stahma was determined to have eye contact.

 

“Amanda, listen to me very carefully. Datak murdered your sister because of me. I was sure he would kill us both, but he was far colder than I could have imagined.”

 

Amanda looked at Stahma, her eyes watering, whether from fear or sadness she couldn’t say. “Why? What did you have to do with it?”

 

“I was having an affair with your sister. Datak found out. I assumed he would kill us both, but instead he chose to kill her, and forced me to remain his wife. Every day for the past two months I have come to her grave, Amanda. I loved your sister.”

 

_It’s nice._

_The tea?_

_No, having a secret. Something that is all mine. You are all mine Kenya._


End file.
